


Night Plans

by all_their_intricacies



Category: Tenet (2020)
Genre: Aftercare, Asphyxiation, Barebacking, Coming Untouched, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Translation Available, 中文翻译 | Translation in Chinese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:00:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26343013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_their_intricacies/pseuds/all_their_intricacies
Summary: The thing is, both The Protagonist and Neil are very busy. Keeping the world from imploding every minute isn’t an easy task, and leading the organization that’s solely responsible for just that ismorethan hard. It’s demanding, and eats up on both of their time like an insatiable creature with a pitless stomach.So, as resolution, when they want to spend time together, they’d plan for it. The Protagonist would have a space in his calendar, marked the date, the time, titled‘time for Neil —onNeil’.
Relationships: Neil/The Protagonist (Tenet)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 144





	Night Plans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sigismonda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sigismonda/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [Night Plans（中文翻译）](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26372716) by [Lwnixndk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lwnixndk/pseuds/Lwnixndk)



> for my lovely muse, [chris](https://percivlgraves.tumblr.com/), who sat there and watched in realtime as i typed this fic out in our discord chat. go give them all your love, tell them i sent ya ;)
> 
> and folks, please peep the tags before venturing futher down; let me know if i miss anything. thank you.

The thing is, both The Protagonist and Neil are very busy. Keeping the world from imploding every minute isn’t an easy task, and _leading_ the organization that’s solely responsible for just that is _more_ than hard. It’s demanding, and eats up on both of their time like an insatiable creature with a pitless stomach.

So, as resolution, when they want to spend time together, they’d plan for it. The Protagonist would have a space in his calendar, marked the date, the time, titled _‘time for Neil — on Neil_’. It’s a little ridiculous, for outsiders maybe, but it works for them. It gives them something to look forward to, to do _things_ to each other without fear of interruption because this time is for them, and them only.

When times like that finally come, though, it goes _slow_.

It goes like this: The Protagonist opens the door for a very well-put-together Neil, who's actually showered, who's dolled himself up all nice just for a date with his beloved. The Protagonist smiles, looking up and down at him with an undisguised hunger that makes Neil wants to take it all off so The Protagonist could have him way with him as he pleases.

But, you see, The Protagonist has the whole night planned out. He can't just let Neil derail it, even though The Protagonist knows it would end up exciting and mind-blowing all the same. So, he invites Neil in, ignores the pleading look Neil is giving him (so fucking pretty, eyes almost shining under the overhead light, all devoted to The Protagonist), and sets them both down in front of the table where the food is all placed out. The Protagonist didn't cook the meal himself – Lord knows he didn't have the time – but Neil can't find it in himself to mind.

It goes on like this: The Protagonist takes Neil's hand after dinner is finished, and the glint – that _wicked_ , _sinful_ glint – in his eyes tells The Protagonist that Neil knows exactly what's coming ahead. What they're heading towards to. Which is, of course, the bedroom.

They start slow; The Protagonist methodically takes each piece of clothing on Neil's body off – belt first, then his shirt out of his pants, then each button from the top down, and down, and down. Neil protests, tries to make it go faster, because _fuck_ , he's so horny and hard that it's driving him half-mad, but The Protagonist won't have it.

"Shush, sweetheart. I know what you want, and if you behave, I’ll give it all to you," The Protagonist says, low and hot into Neil's ear that almost makes the British man melts right into a puddle on the floor. "You'll behave, won't you?" The Protagonist pushes, the fingers on Neil's zipper pulling it down millimeter by slow millimeter. The only response Neil could muster up at that point is a low moan, deep in his chest as he rests his forehead on The Protagonist's shoulder, not sure he could take his own weight anymore.

The Protagonist smiles to himself, taking it as the agreement he was prying for.

When Neil is completely naked – _fucking finally_ – The Protagonist – who's still fully dressed, how fucking unfair is that? – pushes him down the bed. For a moment, nothing happens. Neil lies on the bed, stock still at the position he's landed on, while The Protagonist stares down at him, admiring him, raking his eyes over every centimeter of Neil's skin – all belongs to him. It almost makes Neil self-conscious, but this The Protagonist who's doing it, someone Neil would trust – _has_ trusted – with his entire life, so it's okay. It's fine.

Neil stretches, a sensual movement that he knows will make his muscles flex and ripple under his skin, a performance all for The Protagonist's viewing pleasure. How pleased he is, to hear the groan escaping The Protagonist's lips – involuntarily so, Neil knows. Neil knows all the sounds he makes, knows which one is good, which is bad, which is Neil's doing, which is by his own volition. This one, though – that's The Protagonist's restraint starting to slip. That's where Neil can sneak his way in and pull The Protagonist away from that hardened self-control he holds onto like a vice.

With a sigh, sated and hungry all at once, The Protagonist finally sets to take off his clothes. Like he did before with Neil, he goes slow, piece by piece of clothing dropped carelessly on the floor. This time, Neil finds himself not really minding the drag of it; The Protagonist is putting on a show, after all, and what a sight he is. Muscles flexing with each movement, slivers of skin revealed treacherously slow making the heat near Neil's groin burn hotter and hotter. He's caught between wanting to jump up and pull The Protagonist down, devouring him, taking everything he could, and _behaving_. The Protagonist had promised a reward for it, and curious little minx that Neil is, he just _has_ to find out what that reward may be.

It's a trick on himself, really; he already knows what he's going to get. But _god_ , the anticipation, the possibilities swirling through his mind make it all the better, all the more worth it.

And it is, it really is - worth it, better, _maddening_ \- when the last piece of clothing on The Protagonist's body finally drops to the ground, and The Protagonist _pounces_. He finds his place in between Neil's legs – already spread, all so ready for his lover – while Neil lays back, staring up at him like the god that he is. The Protagonist places his hands on Neil's thighs, drifting them down slowly towards Neil's groin, then up Neil's body, completely avoiding the place Neil wants him to touch the most. (God, he's so hard, it _hurts_ , but The Protagonist had _promised_ , so he waits.)

Then, when The Protagonist's hand meets Neil's chest, the tips of his fingers splayed casually on Neil's collarbone, The Protagonist leans down and _takes_. First, he takes Neil's kiss. He places his lips on top of Neil's, tongue and teeth invasive, just the way Neil likes it (he likes it to hurt, to leave a taste of The Protagonist in his mouth for the time beings, for as long he could hold it in there). Then, The Protagonist pulls away, despite the groan of protest from Neil's mouth – a guttural sound from a desperate man, and takes his throat. He bites down, lets teeth sink into flesh, to leave a mark of himself behind, leave it there so Neil knows who he belongs to.

Then, The Protagonist moves down lower, leaving marks with his lips and teeth wherever he goes. From Neil's chest, to his toned abs, to his navel, to the inner of his thighs, all the while avoiding that one _specific_ place that Neil is just dying for him to get to. Neil whines, a bratty sound that escapes his lips without much thinking – mostly because thoughts are such a luxury right now, Neil truly has been reduced to a writhing mess and it's all The Protagonist's doing – and The Protagonist halts his venture on Neil's body. He stops, suddenly so, and looks up at Neil, a harsh look in his eyes, punishing almost.

" _Neil_ ," The Protagonist says, definitive, commanding, making all of Neil's movements – involuntary or not – stop. He freezes up, eyes gleaming with tears as he looks down, feeling his heart drop as he meets The Protagonist's eyes. "You promised to behave," The Protagonist continues, dragging out the words as he sits up, hands rested on Neil's thighs again. "You weren't just lying to me, were you?"

Neil panics, foolishly so, shaking his head, a streak of tear unknowingly fall from his eyes in the process. “No, no, I wasn’t lying. Please. I’ll- I’ll behave. _Please_.”

The Protagonist gives him a look, incredulous, but accepts his words for what they are. He breathes through his nose, steadily, slowing down his rushing heartbeat at the sight of Neil, crying, dripping wet because of _him_. The Protagonist did this, he made Neil like this – begging, pleading, so desperate for just a touch from him. What a rush that is; what a rush to know he has this power over Neil.

Feeling nothing but pride in himself, The Protagonist leans down to capture Neil’s lips again, a soothing gesture, to let Neil know that he’s alright, that The Protagonist will take care of him, will make him feel better than anything he could imagine. Neil clings onto it – onto the kiss, the unspoken words and promise – and feels like he’s halfway to heaven.

When The Protagonist pulls back, he reaches over to the bedside table and picks up the bottle of lube he’s left there, just for this. He pours some out on his fingers, taking his time to rub it and make it warm up, watching the anticipation in Neil’s eyes, in his heavy breaths. It almost makes him want to let up and just get to it.

But, well, he’s still got some self-control left – as scant as it is – so he goes slow, once again. Neil knows to lay still and _wait_ , because that’s all he can do now, if he wants to get his reward. When The Protagonist finally brings his fingers down to touch Neil’s entrance, the sigh of relief comes from Neil is almost earth-shattering. The Protagonist lets himself revel in it.

He circles his fingers around the rim, pushing but not quite breaching, loving the way it makes Neil writhe – trying to get away, trying to get more, both at once. Then, once a breath that sounds something like _please_ escapes Neil’s lips, so soft and sweet, The Protagonist can’t find it in himself to tease anymore. He pushes the first finger in, then the second, then the third, working Neil open with practiced ease.

When Neil’s lower lip is all but bleeding from the grip his teeth has on it, The Protagonist pulls away his fingers, his other hand reaching up to touch Neil’s cheek, urging his lover to look at him. When Neil does, tear-filled eyes staring into determined ones, The Protagonist finally moves in, pushing into Neil in a maddeningly slow pace. Neil’s eyes roll back into his head, mind completely taken by the pleasure that was promised to him.

The Protagonist sets a rhythm, one that he knows will pull the most sounds out of Neil, will make him feel so good that his words start to bleed together – an incomprehensible mixture of The Protagonist’s name, of pleads, of demands, of wishes. Music to The Protagonist’s ears, in other words.

Then, it ends like this: The Protagonist feels it by the way Neil clenches down around him, the way his breath shuttered, his words more urgent and rushed. The Protagonist reaches up a hand, wrap his fingers around Neil’s throat – his pale throat, littered with hickeys that The Protagonist just left there moments before, all bare for The Protagonist’s taking. He squeezes, applies enough pressure that Neil begins to gasps, air flow obstructed and insufficient.

Neil comes just like that, with The Protagonist’s hand around his throat, face and chest red from the abuse, cock completely untouched. The Protagonist follows right after, pumping into him like his life depends on it, pulling his own pleasure out of Neil’s slacken body.

After, when The Protagonist has finally caught his breath and Neil has awakened from his momentary lapse of consciousness, The Protagonist slowly pulls out of Neil, leaving that warmth and tightness behind. Neil groans at the drag of The Protagonist’s cock over his sensitive prostate, his own cock twitching as some valiant attempt at response.

The Protagonist gives him a kiss on his forehead, then one more on his eyelid, on the tip of his nose, then the corner of his lips, all for his trouble. “You were so good tonight,” The Protagonist says, soothing, comforting, warming up Neil’s chest. “You were amazing. I love you so much.” He emphasizes his words with more kisses, and Neil smiles at him, sated, still a mess underneath The Protagonist’s hands.

The cleanup is easy and quick, using the rag from the bedside table, next to the lube (The Protagonist really had it all planned). The Protagonist wipes Neil – whose limbs have become mushy noodles and no longer viable for use – down. The Protagonist groans at the sight of his come leaking out of Neil. He bites down on his lip, looking up at Neil, who’s halfway asleep by now, and settles for _next time_.

He finishes wiping Neil down, and disposes of the rag in the nearby bin. Then, he settles them both underneath the cover, pulling Neil close to his chest, feeling his heart warm, stutter and so completely in love at the way Neil grumbles sleepily at him.

The Protagonist's phone beeps from the bedside table, the screen lights up to signal a new message. The Protagonist pays it no mind, closing his eyes and allowing himself to sink into the warmth radiating from Neil's body. He's got this whole night planned out for them, so not a single thing could pull him away from it. The world, Tenet, anything else can wait until morning comes.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on my [protagoneil blog](https://iamtheprotagoneil.tumblr.com/), where I ramble nonsense about this ship that has taken over my entire life and thought process.
> 
> as always, comments and kudos are much appreciated. honestly, i read and check each one; y'all are so precious to me <3


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